


Bound to You (For Better Or For Worse)

by deervsheadlights



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Devotion, I swear, M/M, Revelations, Sacrifice, Soul Bond, Soul Stone (Marvel), Vormir, but nobody dies, seven infinity stones?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 23:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21466627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deervsheadlights/pseuds/deervsheadlights
Summary: It's one thing knowing someone holds your heart in their hands; it is something else entirely to realize they also hold your soul in ways that aren't so purely figurative.Or: Steve and Tony are the ones sent to Vormir to retrieve the Soul Stone. Things don't go as planned (for the better).
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 173





	Bound to You (For Better Or For Worse)

**Author's Note:**

> turns out i'm still not over endgame. here's something relatively wholesome (and pretty corny, if i do say so myself), because i can't stand angst anymore.
> 
> as always, i'm no native speaker and don't have a beta, so please bear with me. 
> 
> enjoy reading!

In hindsight, Tony thinks he should’ve known. 

Maybe. Probably. Then again, you know what they say about hindsight; Tony for one hasn't had full 20/20 vision in years. Life would be of too little difficulty and hardship if everyone always _ knew_, and wouldn't that be just terribly boring? 

Anyway, he’s going to stick to the more nebulous term of self-proclaimed visionary and leave the whole oracle shtick to Strange (Sorcerer Supreme, Master of the Mystic Arts and Keeper of the Time Stone, or however he referred to himself on a normal weekday. It’s a mouthful for sure. And the guy had the audacity to comment on _ Tony’s _ego, of all things.)

Or, well, he _ would _ leave the matter to the wizard. If, you know, Strange hadn’t been dusted like so many others. Namely fifty percent of humanity. Which brings him back to their initial goal -- retrieving the Soul Stone from the godforsaken place that is Vormir. And really, isn’t _ that _funny all by itself? After almost meeting his death in the boundless void of outer space, one might think he would’ve chosen not to step foot in a spaceship anytime soon. It's been five years alright, but sometimes -- sometimes he still dreams, and whenever the memory does come crawling back, it’s enough to deja-vu him right back to those nights he's spent tinkering riddled with insomnia and existential terror after New York.

He _ knew _ ever since the wormhole and still; look where it got them.

Their attempt to reverse Thanos' doing began with more logistics than one might assume. They put together teams and assigned each one to gather the stone(s) from the particular place and time they’d calculated. Not that he didn’t think of protesting against the final decision, but he had to admit the division made sense this way. 

Bruce, Scott, Natasha and Clint are either people who’ll fit right into the scenery of Chitauri-infested New York City (Bruce, Nat, Clint) or are unobtrusive enough not to stand out at all (Scott, Nat, Clint). As a logical conclusion, Thor is revising Asgard with Rocket to keep him in check while Rhodey (air support) and Nebula (knows the place) went to Morag.

Which leaves Steve and Tony to collect the Soul Stone.

How ironic and unsurprising. In the very end, it always comes down to him and Steve. Tony wonders if this is the universe’s way of taunting him for ever thinking he could truly escape Steve Rogers.

Because he can't. And he never really wanted to, if he's being unapologetically, brutally honest with himself. (He isn't, most of the time, but there are rare instances of clarity wherein he can admit such things to himself.) 

So, he's never actively, truly sought to escape the hold Steve had on him. Not even when he was in the thick of it, with searing rage and piercing betrayal feeding a bottomless pit in the depths of his stomach. Maybe that should be a worrying bout of self-reflection, but Tony really doesn't have the energy to worry about the deeper intricacies of their falling out or his own lack of self-preservation instincts. There's greater things on the line now. (He tries not to think about the possibility that their fight might very well have been the catalyst of their collective failure.)

As luck would have it, it's once again on them to make or break the universe. Although they're very much aware of the impact of their actions this time around, which Tony isn't sure is a positive development anymore. Not after what the Red Skull told them was needed to get the Soul Stone. 

Tony takes a step back from the ledge, looking back up from where he's been studying the artfully crafted stone circle at the bottom of the abyss. Steve is still eyeing the Skull warily from where he's standing, shield clutched in one hand and his body strung taut, as if he's expecting his former nemesis to whisper "Hail Hydra" in that gravely voice of his and attack at any given point in the next minutes. 

The image would be amusing to witness if their situation wasn't what it's turned out to be, because the Skull's every word makes it painfully obvious that he's long transcended the state of being that once earned him Captain America's righteous fury. Steve, on the other hand, is still coming to terms with that reality. 

Tony's glad about that particular development though -- he prefers dealing with Steve's momentary tunnel vision over any further unprompted acts of violence. He only barely managed to keep the man from acting on the initial knee-jerk reflex telling him to pounce on the ominous, floating figure as it stepped out of the shadows and revealed itself as the Red Skull. 

Tony heads back toward the remains of the giant, stony arch that towers above the mountain. It looks like it might've been part of a bigger structure once, like a palace. Vormir in itself is a visually appealing in nature, really, could've even been a profitable intergalactic tourist attraction if it wasn't for all the death and sacrifice. 

Sensing Tony’s presence, Steve's head twitches just so in his direction, his eyes lingering on the Skull for a moment longer before he looks over at Tony. _ Anything? _he asks, wordlessly, hopefully, his brows drawn together in question. There must be something in Tony's face that betrays his answer, because Steve exhales in defeat before Tony even gets the chance to open his mouth. 

He offers an elaborate explanation anyway, because talking to tune out the feelings of dread settling heavy in his stomach is the only thing that'll keep him from screaming in frustration at this point.

"Looks like discount Hellboy here is telling the truth," Tony says through a sigh, clasping his hands. "I checked every nook and cranny, scans don't produce any viable results. There's nothing. No hidden passages, no secret stashes, not even a _ trace _ of the Stone. This place is dead."

Steve's posture loses some of its tension as he turns toward Tony, frown hardening his features. "How is this sacrificial ritual supposed to work? We know the Stone's not here _ now, _so what guarantees it'll appear once you offer a soul in exchange?"

The look Steve shoots him makes Tony's throat close up. There's something dark and wickedly determined in his eyes, like he's--like he's considering going through with this. 

Before Tony can bring himself to choke out an answer, the Skull cuts in, "The Soul Stone's powers are far beyond the comprehension of the mortal mind. It cannot prove its veracity to you, but rest assured it will abide by its everlasting promise. A soul for a soul."

_ Rest assured_. Right. Tony snorts.

He's painfully aware he should've expected something like this from the beginning. It was Nebula, after all, who told him all about the circumstances in which her sister had died. She argued that Thanos wouldn't have laid a finger on his favorite daughter if it wasn't absolutely necessary, which led one to the conclusion that something happened on Vormir that inadvertently called for Gamora's death.

Turns out, that mounting sense of foreboding he felt on their hike up the mountain wasn't just the general anxiety he's had nestled in the back of his head ever since starting this suicide mission. 

Tony lets himself drop down on a rectangular block of stone on one side of the arch, supporting his elbows on his thighs as he buries his face in his hands. When there's movement to his right, he lifts his head, one hand moving up to fist his hair.

Next to him, Steve's leaning against the inner wall of the arch, its surface discolored and littered with cracks that came to be in the course of time. The Skull's unmoving form is watching them wordlessly from a few yards away, his hollow eyes not betraying a thing. It's eerie. Tony wonders if he has a hunch for whether they'll bite or not.

"What's the plan, Cap? You really thinking about going through with this?" he asks, his strangely raspy voice breaking the unnerving silence. 

He can't bring himself to look at Steve. There's a knot lodged in his throat that's making it hard to breathe. With every second Steve doesn't answer, his palms get progressively sweatier. 

If they do this-- it can't be him. It _ can't _ be. Simple as that. 

That makes him an egoist, possibly. Or an asshole. Or a coward. Or all of those combined; little bit of everything, maybe? _ Is _wanting to come home to your wife and daughter an egocentric motivation? It shouldn't be. He made a promise to Morgan, first and foremost. He promised he'd be there. Breaking that promise would be-- It would turn him into all the things he's always sought to avoid. 

Except--hold that thought. It's not about that. It's not about what doing this would make out of _ him. _He'd be mush. Dead. Muerto. Whatever. 

His family would mourn him, for a couple of months. Morgan...she'd miss him, for some time, but Rhodey and Happy would step up to help her through the loss, and besides, she's four years old. For all it's worth, Tony doesn't remember the first four years of his life. Losing a loved one is hard, even if they were an absolute dick during their lifetime (thanks for that, Howard) but they'd recover. They--

"We agreed, right?" Steve speaks up suddenly, words cutting through the quiet. When Tony looks up at him, he exhales a long breath that turns into small clouds of steam in the cold. "Whatever it takes, Tony."

Steve's jaw is set in bitter determination and his mouth twisted into a thin line. Whatever it is he's decided, it's very clearly not debatable. Something about the way his eyes look makes Tony's gut clench with the sudden urge to back off and get the fuck away from the man as far and quickly as possible.

He swallows instead, frozen in the moment. Steve's eyes are fixed on his, and he's not blinking. Tony's lungs decide to stop working. He thought he could-- he could do it, if he had to. For the universe's sake.

But he can't.

"I can't do this to them, Steve," he says. It's supposed to be a simple statement, a matter of fact, but the words that leave his mouth sound like a plea. "It's not fair. Not like this."

Steve's stoic expression turns into a frown. It's almost--confused? No, can't be. Tony pushes further because he's never known when to stop, and desperation doesn't help. "It won't work, you _know_ it won't. 'Lose that which you love'? You could damn well push me off that cliff but it wouldn't do anything because you've proven time and again that there's no _fucking_ love here!" 

At that, Steve recoils from him, maybe a foot or so. A muscle in his jaw tics, and then he breaks their eye contact by shaking his head. When he looks back at Tony, his eyes are glazed over. Tony sees him gripping the strap on the shield out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't pay attention because he's preoccupied with the fact that _ Steve _ is on the verge of tears.

"You know that's not true," Steve says quietly. And then, "Go see your family, Tony."

All the puzzle pieces come together the moment Steve rips the shield off his arm and breaks into a run toward the edge of the cliff. The shield comes clattering down on the floor in front of the Red Skull, who pays it no mind but instead watches the man who once foiled his plans jump to certain death with mild interest.

_ Stupid,_ Tony thinks, because that puzzle was something a three-year-old could've solved and _ of course _Steve was going to jump, Christ, that suicidal motherfucker. He's been looking to make things right with Tony ever since Tony's breakdown after returning from space, and this, well. This would just be the greatest opportunity to prove himself, wouldn't it?

The second thing Tony thinks is, as shameful and hilariously self-denying as it sounds, _ what makes you think _ I _ love _ you _ enough for this to work, Rogers? _

Which he'll admit is laughable, because he's never really stopped, has he? He never stopped loving this man, and so help him God, he probably never will. It's how he's wired. Maybe he does have too much love to give. If he's ever thought _ too much _couldn't be a problem, well, there's a first time for everything.

His train of thought comes to an abrupt halt when Steve jumps and disappears from his field of vision in a split second, because-- he can't do _ this, _either. 

"God damn you, Rogers," he grits through his teeth, and before he's even made a conscious decision, he is up and his feet are carrying him toward the cliff.

Tony double-taps the arc reactor and nosedives off the edge. 

Maybe he's being unreasonable here. For not being able to let go, or letting Steve have the dignity of his choice. Whatever he is, Steve is probably the bigger man out of the two of them, because Tony doesn't even have a notion of what he's looking to get out of this. Saving Steve won't get them the Stone. And if they both die in the process-- that's something Tony doesn't want to think about.

Something he does think about is the diminishing distance between him and Steve's falling body. His quick math is useful most of the time, but now, it just serves to remind him that no matter what he tries, he won't reach Steve in time. 

FRIDAY tells him the same, and Tony tells her to talk less and speed up instead, despite the obvious fact that she's more than capable of doing both simultaneously. 

Five seconds. Five seconds, and they could've made it. 

As it is, Tony reaches out for Steve's leg mid-fall. Steve whirls around, eyes wide in shock at the sudden touch and Tony's presence. It happens in what must've been a matter of moments, but the time seems to stretch into infinity, like a string of pale pink bubblegum. Tony hears the blood pounding in his ears and counts down his own rapid heartbeats until he _ finally _gets a hold of Steve's limb.

Of course, it's too late to pull up now. It's been too late for all of five seconds. All he can hope to do at this point is brace for impact and hopefully shield Steve from the worst of it. He knew the odds when he moved past the point of safe recovery.

Tony can make out the ornaments carved into the circle on the ground. He might've appreciated the artistry in it if he wasn't just about to hit literal rock bottom. In the last, _ last _possible moment, he rolls and yanks on Steve's leg, successfully pulling the man on top. With him and the Iron Man suit between Steve and the ground -- well, there's no sugarcoating it. Chances of survival are still a one-digit percentage. 

The very last moment of consciousness leaves him with a pang of guilt.

_ Please forgive me, _he thinks, unsure whom he's begging for forgiveness.

Maybe his family.

Maybe the universe at large.

* * *

It's dark.

No, there's flashes of light. Colors. Shapes.

Is this what your life flashing in front of your eyes looks like? Because if so, it's a lot more anti-climactic than he'd hoped it'd be. 

Then, there's blinding, excruciating pain from a place in his body he can't make out. He's just--floating there, wherever _ there _is, unable to scream or curl in on himself with agony. 

It's indescribable, insurmountable pain. It's being ripped apart from the inside out, something in his very core being taken apart with sheer brute force. He doesn't think he's experienced a sensation this agonizing in all his life. Open-heart-surgery without proper anesthesia is laughable, a pin-prick in comparison.

Tony wonders whether there's a place like hell, and if this is it.

Tony wakes up.

* * *

Tony jolts upright with a gasp, desperately sucking air into his lungs after what feels like an eternity of going without. Like being held underwater for an extended period of time. (And wouldn't he know about that?)

There's a momentary stinging sensation piercing his chest, and it feels not quite unlike that initial surge of energy searing his nerve endings whenever he put the arc reactor back in its casing. Something is holding him down too, restricting his breathing with an unfamiliar weight that is entirely unlike the reactor. And it's--moving?

When Tony pries his eyes open, the weight on his chest takes on the shape of Steve Rogers, unconscious and sprawled over his upper body with no regard for Tony's need of oxygen. Rude. 

With the feeling of 230 pounds of very much _ alive _super-soldier all over him, lots of other bodily sensations come back to him too. At his feet, he feels water lapping at him tirelessly, and the sand between his fingers tells him that some miraculous power has spit them back out at the shore of a body of water. Tony's 99% sure there wasn't even a trace of water or similar chemical compounds to be found on Vormir last he checked, so this particular development definitely promises to be a head-scratcher.

Tony's gaze shifts away from Steve and up, where a still, clear lake makes way for endless sandy hills in the distance. It's eerily quiet but for the sound of the water. The sky is drenched in otherworldly shades of red and orange, and none of their surroundings seem familiar. 

What's this supposed to be? A vision of death? Some interdimensional waiting room on the brink to afterlife? Feeling panic clogging his throat, Tony squeezes his eyes shut again and exhales shakily as he listens to Steve's faint breathing. 

Tony gives himself ten seconds to calm his spiking heart rate, then sucks in a deep breath and rolls Steve's body to the side with one hard push. Strangely, he's still unable to move away. Tony notices the iron grip which the other man has around his closed fist, restricting his range of movement. After a moment of consideration, he attempts to pry Steve's fingers off, but not even his pinky budges half an inch. No such luck; it really is an _ iron _ grip.

It strikes him then that the inside of his hand feels uncharacteristically... warm. As if wrapped around one of those pocket warmers people like to use during winter. Come to think of it, his fist isn't closed _ entirely. _There is a small space inside it where his fingers don't touch his palm and vice versa. 

Tony stills. Thinks. After, he turns around, scoops up some water with his non-trapped hand and unceremoniously splashes it into Steve's expressionless face.

Incredibly, the effect is immediate. The other man gasps, eyes shooting open and body convulsing for a moment before he stills and tenses. His gaze darts around wildly until he locks onto Tony, some of the trepidation in his features yielding to undiluted relief as he takes note of both Tony's and his own physical integrity. After a few beats during which neither of them move or speak, Tony clears his throat, breaking the prolonged eye contact.

"Glad to have you back with me, Cap. But say, uh, do you mind?" He paints over the sudden awkwardness with a lopsided smirk and points to Steve's hand, still clasped tight around his own.

Steve follows the direction of his gaze, eyes widening a little as he hurriedly lets go and pulls back, using both hands for support to heave himself upright. His brows furrow in confusion as he takes in their surroundings, looking just as put out as Tony must have only minutes prior.

Tony gives him some space to acclimate to the situation, opting to massage the stiff wrist of his hand finally freed from Steve's grip. 

When he splays his fingers wide to work the kinks out, his palm glows orange. Correction: the _ thing _ he's holding glows. The pebble-shaped, orange crystal in his hand glows and pulses with renewed intensity as he reaches out to touch it, dumbfounded and speechless. 

It's then that Steve turns back to him, mouth hanging open as whatever he was about to say gets stuck in his throat at the sight of the Soul Stone before him. His lips form shapes around silent words, sentences he doesn't seem to know how to begin or how to end. Maybe they're meant to be expressions of awe, or cries of joy, or curses meant for the Red Skull and his deception.

"How--"

**_ Remarkable, _**a voice says.

Tony flinches, hand flying to his chest. Steve shoots upright in record speed, stance wide and body taut in anticipation of an incoming attack. Their agitation is of no avail, however. The sky above is clear, the lake lies still and motionless as ever and the dunes all around have remained unchanged but for a light breeze stirring the sand. 

Not too far from the shore, a small archway of white stone has sprung up from the previously empty patch of sand. It's the only discernible change as far as Tony can tell. Steve has spotted it too, holding out a hand to pull him upright. Tony accepts it, exchanging a fleeting glance with the other man to ensure they both have the same idea of how to proceed. 

As they move closer, the disembodied voice speaks again. **_ Fourteen billion years it took you to return as one. _**

Return? Tony meets Steve's befuddled look with one of his own.

**_ That is right, _** it says. **_ Countless of times you have visited this place, lost without the missing half. A successful reunion within a species so primitive is truly remarkable. _**

Tony would like to wake up now. He shakes his head as if to get it out of his mind, recognizing the futility of the attempt. They come to a halt in front of the archway, the construction appearing taller now that they're closer. Steve's right hand flexes at his side, clearly on edge with the absence of his shield. Not thinking, Tony grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers. It's just as much for himself as it is for Steve -- the contact feels grounding.

At the first touch, Steve tenses. He squeezes around Tony's fingers as if to ask whether he's sure and when Tony returns the gesture, his posture relaxes momentarily and he receives a grateful smile. After a bout of unnerving silence, Steve is the first to speak up.

"Who-- _ What _are you?" 

**_ Excellent question. _**It's almost like there is humor in the indefinable tone of its voice. 

Between the pillars of the archway, a gust of sand grains carried by the winds beginning to pick up velocity transforms into a vortex of white and blinding light. With a flash, the movement ceases, sand raining onto the ground and revealing the shape of a… woman.

Steve sucks in a trembling breath, free hand reaching out halfway like he wants to touch but doesn't think he's allowed.

"I am everyone," she says.

The woman is rather short, blond hair curled into a simple hairdo on the back of her head, blue eyes crinkling as she smiles softly. Her outfit reminds of a nurse's back in the day. 

Tony looks back at Steve, the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. He understands. All of a sudden, the picture of his mother fades into a flash of colors, thousands of different faces looking back at them at once. Steve's grip tightens almost unbearably, but Tony can't conjure the presence of mind to complain. 

Most of the people are strangers to him, but he makes out flashes of familiar faces in-between. There's Peggy in her younger years, curls in her hair and red on her lips, Jarvis in his later years and one of his fanciest waistcoats, Ana with this small, subdued smile she used to smile out of pride and then -- Maria, just so very much like he remembers her, prim and proper and _ sad. _

Before Tony gets to call out, she's gone. He's too overwhelmed to scream in grief or frustration, instead opting to nurse the wounds that have never healed in silence as the likenesses of more people pass by. The man in the uniform that makes Steve's eyes widen in recognition is a Howling Commando, and the one in the lab coat is Abraham Erskine, whose research Tony spent years obsessing over during the worst part of his Captain America phase in his early teens. 

The last one, Tony knows too. 

"I am everyone," Yinsen repeats, looking just like he does in those dreams Tony sometimes still has, when he tells him not to waste his life over and over until the worlds reverberate like a broken record in his head.

With a last flicker, he disappears.

**_ And no-one. _**

Tony swallows, trying to stomp out the onslaught of emotions the sight of many loved people long gone has brought. He holds onto Steve's hand like a lifeline and brings his other up in front of him, observing the gem in this palm, still pulsing with light in steady intervals. 

"Impressive, but I'm still at a loss here. What's all this supposed to mean?" Tony asks into the void, staring at the space where the image of Yinsen had stood just a few seconds ago. 

**_ Oh, to be innocent. _** Something like laughter echoes between the dunes, but there's a surreal, indefinable edge to it. **_ Worry not, your questions shall be answered, brave one. _**

In the archway, a renewed whirl of sand and light begins to form a picture unlike all the others before. Two magenta-colored silhouettes of light, only distantly reminding of people, wound so tightly around one another they almost appear as one.

**_ In the beginning, there were seven entities, six of which you would come to know as Infinity Stones only billions of years later. The seventh, the lost one, broke apart upon creation, its two halves separated by force. Incomplete, they would crack and shatter until only fragments were left. _**

The shapes change, exploding into countless little fragments that then disappear one by one_._

**_Yet, the pull was stronger than any other, and the pieces left on opposite sides of the universe adapted to one day overcome the distance and reunite. _**

When there are only two left, the outlines of two humans manifest and the remaining pinkish dots melt into the center of their chests respectively. 

If he could, Tony'd laugh, but his mouth is dry, throat itching with the sudden absence of saliva. One look at Steve confirms that he feels similarly, incredulous at the scene unfolding in front of them and the frankly unbelievable things it implies.

**_ It is difficult for a mortal mind to comprehend, and yet. Have you not found your totality to be integral to the totality of the universe? _**

Feeling Steve's eyes burning a hole into his profile, Tony turns, returning his glassy stare. The corners of his eyes are burning, breathing a irregular sequence of broken gasps and faltering inhales.

It makes sense, suddenly. Their differences, their intentions so similar yet always explosive, like stars colliding. Two sides of the same coin. Never being able to let go, incapable of loving less in spite of all the sorrow, anger and betrayal. Hurting with their own failure when apart, but all the stronger for it once reunited.

**_ Have you not both ached in your souls as I proved the authenticity of your bond? _**

Tony remembers those moments after the impact, after Steve jumped and Tony followed seemingly just to spite all logic and common sense left within him. He hurt, then. More than he'd ever thought possible, not with everything he'd already been through. He thought he'd built up endurance for anything and everything that fate may throw his way, but this -- nobody would know to prepare for this.

He pulls his hand away. Steve's brows draw together in confusion and then in disappointment, but Tony doesn't leave him any more time to second-guess. Steve watches, motionless and blue eyes still watery, audibly drawing in air as Tony wraps his arms around his neck until they're pressed flush against one another. Disbelieving, the other man wordlessly observes Tony as he leans closer on the tips of his toes.

In the last moment, Tony remembers himself. He wrenches his gaze away from the man's lips and passes Steve's face by, burying his face in the crook of his neck instead. Steve finally comes back to himself and slowly winds his arms low around his back, fingers curling into the jacket when Tony buries into him.

Tony closes his eyes and breathes, fist closed tightly around the Soul Stone in his hand.

**_ It is time. _**

A deafening rumble from above shocks the both of them out of their embrace. They tumble backward, jumping apart, bemused at the sight of their surroundings. 

Tony looks up at the peak of the mountain in their wake, recognizing it from their hike up to its peak, and frantically checks whether the gem in his hand is still there. He's not disappointed at the results. In his palm, the Soul Stone glows a more subdued orange than before, but it's very much there nonetheless. He shows it to Steve who smiles, having just picked up his shield that's magically reappeared on the ground at his feet, and Tony stores the stone away safely. After all this, he isn't taking any chances.

They remain standing there for a moment. 

"Devotion," Tony blurts, suddenly. He hasn't meant to say it and doesn't know where the thought comes from. "The seventh stone. It's devotion."

It's never giving up on someone, even when it doesn't seem like the smart thing to do. Even when you want to. 

Steve looks at the ground and nods.

"I know."

When he meets Tony's gaze, his smile is hopeful. 

* * *

A true understanding of the power and meaning of devotion comes only with suffering and loss beforehand.

Maybe the seventh stone was meant to be broken.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> don't look at me i don't know either what the devotion stone actually does
> 
> feedback is always immensely appreciated!


End file.
